To love you, took a year
by Evilregalwhiteknight
Summary: Emma has been in boarding school for a year, 'thanks' to her latest foster family. The second year there she meets Ms. Mills the new English teacher. TEACHER/STUDENT FIC - DON'T LIKE DO NOT READ!


September 2011.

Here we go again. First day, final year. I hate this school. Everyone here is a stuck up snob. Something I aren't. I hate my foster parents for sending me here. So, I need to learn manners. I have manners I just don't use them. I mean it defeats the object to say, "please suck my dick, good sir," doesn't it? So here I am, in my final year in high school; in a boarding school no less. And I hate it. I mean I have math first thing on a Monday. Are you kidding? Teen suicide is on the rise, so they put math first thing on a Monday.

Me and Mary Margaret, my only friend in the world it seems, are strolling down the corridor talking about classes. She loves the classes she takes, all of them including math. I don't understand her at times, but she was kind to me when no one else was. It's not easy being an outsider. Especially with no friends at all. We're heading to English at the moment, and we have a new teacher in the subject. Ms. Mills. Hey, she can't hate me anyone more than the last one, right?

I think too soon. I turn into the room without looking, and the next thing I know, paper. Paper everywhere. Along with a dull pain in my arm. Yeah, I just knocked my new English teacher flying, along with her paperwork. And she's hot. Shit.

October 2011.

It has been little over a month since the imbecile knocked me over. She's cocky, annoying, and constantly in detention. That's where we are now. She's sat at the other end of the room. She thinks that I'm doing paper work. She doesn't expect that I'm typing all of my frustration caused by her. Who does she think she is? Does she think she's better than everyone else? She's not. I know her background. She was found at the side of the road or something. People who aren't related to her paying for this opportunity for her. What's the point? She's blowing it, and that makes me so angry. She does have potential she just needs to get rid of this masquerade.

She's sat there in the corner with her feet up. On my desks, in my classroom. It, she, disgusts me. "Feet down, Ms. Swan." I repeat for the tenth time in the past week. She listens, for now. I walk over to her desk, perching on the one in front of hers. She straightens up. Oh, she has some manners. "Ms. Swan, why do you insist on annoying me and all of your other teachers? Is it a authority issue?"

"Yeah, you'd have 'em too if you were raised in a children's home."

"I doubt that. I believe it would make me respect authority a lot more."

"You're so wrong." She stares at me with cold, but pained eyes. I decide not to push it further. I couldn't care less whether or not she was raised in a home, she should see us as different people.

"If you believe so. You may leave. I don't want to see you here at this time next week. Do you understand?"

"I do. We'll see, Ms. Mills." She shoots me a look, challenging me, before leaving. This is going to be the longest year of my life, I can feel it.

November 2011.

"Emma, get up you stupid bitch." Before I can move his hands are wrapped in my hair, yanking me up. He drags me down the stairs. Throwing me to the floor he laughs. I learnt months ago that making noises and whimpering spared him on. I look at him defiantly.

"Yes, Tom, what can I do for you?" I take on a sarcastic tone. Big mistake. His fist collides with my face harshly.

I wake up quickly. Practically jumping out of bed. My breath is raged. I scramble out of bed. I need fresh air. Now. Pulling my sweats I realize I'm shaking. I sneak out closing the door behind me. I don't want to work MM or Ruby.

I walk quickly to the court yard. I feel suffocated. Like breathing is a privilege I'm being denied.

I make it outside. I suck in the air greedily. My chest heaves. Only then do my tears fall. It still haunts me. He still haunts me. Ever hit, slap, punch rules my head. I sit on the wall on the edge of the court yard.

I don't hear her behind me until it's too late. "What are you doing out at this hour, Swan?" The one time she doesn't wear heels? I try to gather myself.

"Getting some air." My voice shakes, she knows I'm crying now. She'll know I'm weak. Could this be any worse?

"Is that so, dear?" I nod in response. "Right, mind if I join you?" I don't answer. She joins me anyway. And I'm manner-less? "Seems to me like you needed some time alone. To cry. Well, crying alone accomplishes nothing. You need someone to listen. To hold you. I know we're not exactly... on good terms. But I'm not heart less." For some reason I trust her. I scoot closer before hugging into her. Sobs shake me quietly. I don't know why I'm doing this. This will be perfect for blackmail. 'Do your work or I'm sure your friends would love to know how you cried like a child on my shoulder.' I can see her smug grin now. "Swan what happened any way?"

"Like you care." I manage pulling away drying my tears.

"Fine. I was going to try to help."

"Well you can't no one can. It's my problem. Not yours, not some councillors and not my friends, mine. And I can deal with it."

"As you wish, I'll make sure you get back to your room."

December 2011.

Christmas ball already? It feels like yesterday that I sat down to Christmas dinner with my dad. We have each other and that's it.

I'm chaperoning this dance, and I have never been so bored. I sit alone at the bar nursing a apple cider. It's not the best I have had but it'll do. There's just a handful of students left. With any luck I'll be in bed within the next hour.

More people leave, including the other chaperones. I'm now sat alone. All the students have coupled off and are slow dancing. That's when I feel the hand on my shoulder. I turn quickly. Emma is stood beside me. She's alone like me. "You look bored." She says softly. It's the first time we've spoke, apart from questions in English, since I held her crying form. I nod, smiling shyly.

"I am."

"Well since we're the only two left alone. May I, begrudgingly, ask you to dance?" She asks through clenched teeth. I hold out my hand for her to take just because she'll hate it.

She pulls me to the dance floor. We're similar heights so we'll work well. Her hands fall loosely to my waist. She looks as if it'll burn to touch me. So I take her hands placing them on my upper arms. I wrap my arms around her waist, tightly, showing her how to hold a woman she's dancing with. She smiles whispering something inaudibly. "What was that, dear?" I whisper back so only me and her can hear.

"I said I feel safe, and stupid." I stiffen slightly, not enough for her to notice.

"I see. Ms. Swan. Why did you ask me to dance?"

"You looked as lonely as I feel. All the time. No one should feel like that. Not even you. However much that pains me to say."

January, 2012.

First day back after Christmas break. I'm glad to be back. So, glad. I have Ms. Mills first thing. Which usually I'd hate, but I'm looking forward to it, in a weird way.

New year, new start right? I choose to be nicer to that woman. I may not like her, but I need the grades.

I guess, I have to be truthful to myself too. The first thing being that I don't hate Ms. Mills. I hate that I can't stop thinking about her. I hate that she turns me on when she towers over me. That her voice is like music to me. I hate that I think I'm falling for her.

Ever since she held me. Since I felt her arms around me as we danced. She makes me feel like a child. To her, I acted like one. I know how I was acting. I never meant to act this needy. She's the first person who made me feel like I mattered, while also making me feel like I was nothing. She's fucking with my mind and she doesn't even know it.

February 2012.

I walk in to the first lesson to find an apple on my desk. I pick it up finding a note tucked under it. '_According to my foster family, apples are given to teachers to apologize for misbehaving, so I decidedly needed to get you one. Sorry for being an A+ brat. Swan.'_ I smile. This is completely out of character a_nd oh, so sweet. _

I lift my head looking around. I catch her smiling at me. I return it before starting the lesson. I gave the class a quick essay. Why not? I've been nicknamed the evil queen according to Graham the gym teacher. How charming the students are.

I sit back in my chair watching the class work. I close my eyes for a few seconds, when I reopened them, Swan was staring. She quickly turned her head when she noticed my gaze and arched eyebrow.

ARE WE FLIRTING? REGINA MILLS ARE YOU FLIRTING WITH A STDENT? EMMA SWAN NO LESS? SNAP OUT OF IT. YOU HATE HER.

But, oh no you don't. She annoys you. She annoys you because she's a student therefore forbidden fruit. You hate that you can't have her. I sink back into my chair.

It all makes sense, suddenly. The insults where just to grab her attention. When I saw her cry, even numb, I felt sorry for her. Wanted to protect her. When we danced I felt my heart beat erratically. I hoped she wouldn't slide her hands to my chest out of fear. Now this apple.

I'm overwhelmed. Confused. Do I like her? Do I hate her? Do I love her?

I walk over to her desk with a note, dropping casually. I continue round the room. She waits until I'm watching to open it. 'Yes Ms. Swan, they are given when you're apologizing for misbehaviour. However, they are also given when one likes one's teacher. I'm on to you, Swan.'

March 2012.

When I mentioned my birthday was coming up I expected nothing. Some of the class were getting bad grades. I slipped in that extra credit was available to anyone who got me chocolates. I was expecting nothing. Still marking essays at 9:16 pm on my birthday with no chocolate is the worse kind of torture.

9:24- A knock sounds on the door. It's soft. The students where in bed, too late for chocolates. So who was it? I open the door quietly. "Swan, what are you doing here?"

"I have something for you." She smiles softly. "I screwed up my last essay. Extra credit is still available right?" She laughs softly. Stupid laugh, stupid girl, stupid feelings.

"Make it quick, Swan. I have things to do." I step aside whatever she's hiding she won't let me see it. She walks in and heads to the small kitchen. Taking out a plate she places something on it as I get back to my marking.

"Happy Birthday." She smiles handing me a chocolate cupcake. "Sorry it's not much, but it seems I'm the only one that bothered." She smirks.

"Indeed you were." I struggle to say the next bit, "thank you." I always struggle with gratitude.

"It's fine. Just put an A on my essay." I smile as she sits next to me. "I couldn't get candles, sorry. Oh and I didn't do this for extra credit. It's y way of saying thanks for letting me know that you care even if you don't like me."

"I never said I didn't like you."

"I assumed."

"Well don't. Assuming leads to wrong ideas. Now you really should leave. I want you on time tomorrow." I stand to see her out.

She walks out of my room. I watch her leave the corridor before closing the door to my room. I slump down to sit on the floor head in my hands. Damn it, Swan.

April 2012.

I've waited for this for a while. Fake ID. Tonight I drink. It's been a while, too long. I need to get out of here. And by any means. I've done the hard part. I got the Gold kid to get me a fake ID. I deserve a night out. A night away from her.

It's around half ten when I get to the fifth or maybe sixth bar, I don't know. My head is spinning slightly. I can still kinda walk. I order another drink, apple cider. When did I start liking this?

Oh fuck. "Swan, what are you doing out?"

"Leave me alone, Mills." I shouldn't have said that, especially when it's as slurred as that was.

"Excuse me? Have you been drinking?"

"Yes because..." I am not a weepy drunk so why do I feel like tears are going to start falling? Oh because they are. Brilliant.

"Emma?" I feel her thumb drying my tears. She pulls me to sit near her in a booth. "Why?"

"Because I thought it might stop me thinking about you." She looks at me, dumbfounded. She understands. I look away sharply.

"Look at me, Swan." I comply. I don't know why I just do. "Drinking is not the answer."

"It is. When you're past from home to home, you need a way to cope. So when the man who is supposed to protect you this time, leaves you whimpering in the corner. You take a drink. Even if you're only ten. When you find out you were left at the side of a free way. You drink. It's like a drinking game, with my life. And when you fall madly in love with a woman who is your teacher and despises you, you get drunk enough to forget your name."

"Emma." I barely hear it. It's like it's just us. Until some guy walks over interrupting this. What ever this is.

"Hey, good lookin' wanna let me take ya home and show you a good time?" He's talking to her and I hate it Jealousy takes over. And I'm on autopilot.

"She's taken asshole." It's probably too slurred for him to understand, so to be on the safe side, I kiss her. I pull her in hard claiming her lips. Her hands grab my neck encouraging me. I wish she wouldn't, pulling away will be hard enough. Her lips part, I take the opportunity to slip my tongue in duelling with hers. She moans into me. It's gone too far, but not far enough. I push her to stand up, kissing her until we're in the toilets. We fall in to a stall, falling to the toilet her straddling me. My tank is pulled over my head. I unzip her dress slowly letting my fingers trace the skin. Suddenly she pulls away standing up.

"We can't do this. I'm taking you home." She helps me up whispering softly to me. "Believe me, I wish we could."

May 2012.

I'm sat on her desk. The end of the day and more importantly, end of the week. When she walks in she's surprised. We haven't talked much since my night out which I can't blame her for. I've been embarrassed. She should never had seen me that drunk. I shouldn't have kissed her. Yet, I'm now curious. When she said 'believe me I wish we could,' did that mean she wanted to or was she just drunk too?

"Ms Swan? What are you doing her?" Did I imagine that or was her voice shaky?

"I came to talk."

"What would you like to talk about?"

"When we...when we..."

"Kissed?" Yep, she makes me feel like a fool. I could have just left it, let it be awkward but here I am trying to make sense of it all. For both of our sakes.

"Yeah. You said..."

"I know what I said." Will she let me speak? My God, woman. "I was drunk too, I didn't mean it."

"So you don't think about it? You don't wonder what it'd be like?"

"No Swan, I do not. If that's all, you may leave."

"Well I was going to ask you if you wanted to go out tonight?"

"No, dear I do not. I am your teacher and this is highly inappropriate." I leave with out another word, sulk past her like the child she thinks I am. But if I moved any faster I wouldn't have heard her whisper, "this is highly inappropriate," now to herself. Trying to convince herself. Why?

July 2012.

We haven't talked in so long. She graduates today and I feel terrible. I shouldn't feel like this over a student. Especially one who has taken the whole year to drive me insane. She's still an annoying child when you think about it. A very beautiful child.

I sit in the second row of teachers hoping to sink in to the background. Which I do. Until her eyes search for me. I know they were. They found mine and she smiled. It was genuine. Something I haven't seen for a while. Then I noticed that it faded.

I couldn't help feeling responsible. After the ceremony I tried to leave fast. I hit my car resting against it. Why? I'll never know. But she followed me. She followed me to my car and she smiled. Not as genuine as the first, but not far off. "Regina." The first time she's called me that and it sounds amazing. "I just wanted to say thank you."

"What for?"

"Being there. Being there like no one else was. Showing me that people care."

"You're the first person since Daniel I've acted like that towards."

"Who's Daniel?"

"My fiancé." Her eyes show guilt. I know what she's thinking. "He died. Heart attack."

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. Ms. Swan, I've been thinking. Based on technicalities, I am no longer your teacher. Which means..."

"I'd love to. I'll pick you up tomorrow at 8."


End file.
